Head On (Strength And Love)(24)

“Oh, why? Do you have a red room of pain somewhere hidden away? You like hardcore BDSM, and you’re about to tell me how you’ll ruin me.”

I snort at her words, and it’s a most unsexy sound. “I don’t have a red room of pain, and no I’m not into BDSM, or not in any big way, but I will ruin you.”

“You won’t. I’m not scared of you, big, bad, Ethan…what’s your last name?”

Her question throws me for a moment. “Foston.”

“Ethan Foston, okay. You don’t scare me, Ethan Foston.”

“I should,” I counter. “I’m not kind, or gentle, or sweet.”

She considers me. “I expect you can be, if you want to, but I don’t want those things. I don’t want the…you know, the rape thing. But, you don’t have to treat me like a porcelain doll. I want sex. It’s as simple as that.”

Fuck me. My dick wants me to say yes. If it could speak, it would be begging me about now. But my conscience is telling me to walk away. To tell her to go to bed and stop being stupid. There’s something between us. Some sort of weird spark. It makes no sense, but it’s there. I can sense it every moment she’s near me. And if we do this, it risks getting both of us tied in emotional knots we don’t need. We are totally unsuited to one another, and it’s best we don’t even go there.

“I’ll pay you.”

My blood runs cold. It’s as if she’s slapped me, or worse, spat in my face. Fury slams into me and I’m so fucking angry I daren’t speak. My hands ball into fists and I clench my mouth shut tight.

“What?” She looks confused. “What did I say wrong? You have sex for money, right? I want someone to take my virginity. I nearly got drunk a few months back and asked my friend to do it, but I don’t fancy him, and I don’t want to wreck our friendship. You have the money from my bank account. Keep it. I’ll pay you.”

“You don’t mind if you wreck our friendship.”

She laughs. “We don’t have a friendship.”

I stare at her for a moment. So angry I want to smash something. “Fuck you, Isla. Go to bed.”

I storm out of the room and head up the stairs. I can’t look at her a moment longer.





Chapter Twelve



Isla



What just happened? I stand in his kitchen at a complete loss. I don’t understand. He’s made it clear he doesn’t particularly like me on a personal level, but he obviously finds me somewhat attractive. I’m an inconvenience at best to him. I want to lose my virginity. I’m deeply attracted to him, despite my better judgement, and so I offered to pay him. He has sex for money, and I didn’t ask him to do something he hasn’t done many times before.

Why won’t he take my money? Aren’t I good enough to shag for money? Selina is, so why not me? My confusion turns to heated anger. My blood boils. He’s bloody inconsistent. One moment he’s whispering in my ear all low and sinful about how he “worshiped” some client’s pussy, and ugh, I still hate that word. And the next he’s acting like some wounded saint when I ask him to screw me for money. It makes no sense. He’s so mercurial it begs belief.

I head upstairs, hating having to spend another night under his roof when I’m so pissed off at him. Sadie follows me and I let her. His dogs seem to sleep downstairs, but I let Sadie come up tonight with me. Fuck him and his rules. Fuck him completely. I might not like pussy, but I decide I quite like the word fuck, and I say it loudly. “Fuck him!”

Sadie jumps on the bed, and I smile as she digs at the sheets. I don’t stop her. I stomp around the room sorting my nightclothes out. With those ready, I grab my toiletry bag, and head out of the room only to walk slap bang into the idiot himself.

He moves to the right, but so do I. For a moment, we do this stupid dance around one another, until he sighs, takes my upper arms and holds me still to step around me. He walks by and I lose it. I throw my toiletry bag at his back and it hits him between his shoulder blades.

“You’re such a bastard.” I’m yelling, and swearing, but all the pent-up emotion of the last couple of days is finally finding its way out of me. I’ve been terrorised, taken to a strange house against my will. Made to stay with an irritating, but catastrophically hot man. I’ve worn new clothes, and make-up. Met Selina, who is a force of nature all by herself. I’ve been slapped on the arse by some idiot in a bar, and witnessed Ethan hit him for his trouble.

It’s been the most unnerving, frustrating, exciting few days of my life.

He turns to me and there’s fury in his gaze. Bending down, he swoops my bag off the floor and stalks back to me. I instinctively press up against the wall, but he keeps coming.

Soon, his front is against mine and my spine is up against the hard wall.

“Don’t ever do anything like that again. I could have hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.” I jut my chin at him because I don’t believe he would.

“I was in a war zone. I don’t deal well with physical surprises, like being hit in the back, hard, by a bag full of bottles.”

Oh, shit. My stomach sinks. I’m so stupid. “I’m sorry.”

“What? For hitting me, or insulting me?”

Oh, God this man! “When did I insult you?”